Page 35 of Dirty Salvation

He wanted Zara immediately.

To do things to her he’d only ever fantasized about.

The dirty. The filthy. The downright scandalous.

And he had once upon a time, all night long, with her screams ringing his ears and her nails clawing his back raw.

For so long she’d become just a memory somewhere in the recess of his mind, he believed he’d made more of their night than it was, that’s how good sex was, the memory of it builds it greater than it had been, like talking up cold pizza, it’s the best thing ever when you’re ravenous.

But he recognized the truth when it head-butted him.

Out of this worldcame to mind.

And she was back in his life.

He was no Einstein but he could link A to Z, it was obvious his thoughts would go there, to reawaken those recollections for old times’ sake.

Least, his dick was on board as it ached behind his zipper.

His fucking dick had a mind of its own and a dry spell to contend with.

Rider wasn’t cut from the white knight cloth for fuck's sake.

An outlaw riding to the rescue.

Zara’s rescue.

His Icy girl.

Goddamn…this was an existential crisis if he ever saw one.

He sucked in a breath, letting his feet carry him away from his room before he turned back and did something he regretted like pull her into his arms and tell her everything would be okay and not to fear him.

Outlaws and good deeds were the perfect oxymoron’s, but even as he strode towards the kitchen to grab food for Zara, he could feel his lines blurring.

Twenty-four hours ago he hadn’t thought of her in forever.

Nowallhe could think about was her.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“She wanted to believe it was no big deal that a bad biker man was holding her hand.” – Zara

Appearing in the kitchen doorway more than an hour later, seduced by the scents of frying foods, Zara’s belly growled loud enough to have heads turning her way.

But it was only one she saw. Rider’s head reared up sensing her presence.

His unrelenting blue eyes came across the floor, started at her feet and moved up her long legs, trailed the body he'd once known intimately, he had been the first to touch, to show her what pleasure could be in its rawest form, before his gaze rose onwards to her face, holding her own eyes dangerously tight.

Zara was dead inside yet still felt the touch of his stare. It branded as hot as a fire-poker would, touching her in the same way he had three years ago, without hesitation.

Look away if you dare, his eyes provoked.

Rider was not smoke and mirror, his intentions were right there in his unwavering stare.

He intended to claim her.

He had the look of a possessive alpha animal while he sipped on what smelled like coffee.

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